a dinner best served cold

we talked and agreed to meet
and we'd do it tonight,
my thoughts, never so sweet,
completely blurred my sight.

it all seemed fine,
a perfect waking dream,
up until o'clock nine
when all light grew dim.

for our first dinner,
i prepared a trick and a treat,
should you feel as a sinner,
i'd cleanse you head to feet.

the table for two was set,
but of you no sign was read,
how could i just forget
god himself wishes me dead.

i started to worry
"what could have i done?"
i felt anger and fury
that i was mocked and alone.

i kept thinking "all i did,
i did it out of passion,
the greatest feeling i ever hid
was my dearest possession."

i will shut my only door,
for i am in over my head,
because i'll spend once more
the night alone in my bed.

put me to sleep

if i was forced to dream, but could choose the dream, then i'd dream about spheres. i'd walk them over and over again, never getting tired and never getting nowhere. that's the dream, my dream, never to wake up again.